Thursday, December 9, 2010

Vincent Price and Pheasant Under Glass





I know, many of you will go “What the???” when you see Mr. Price’s face and wonder if I had taken a wrong holiday turn and misplaced a Halloween post  … but you’d be as wrong as I was when I was a kid and heard that Price was an art collector.  I thought the idea risible (he was hawking his collection at Sears, after all) but the joke was on me.  Mr. Price was a respected collector of fine art as well as a renowned gourmet and host. An invitation to his Hollywood home was much prized -- as was his good humor and charm.



Often, when you see lists of great American cookbooks, his 1965 A Treasury of Great Recipes: Famous Specialties of the World's Foremost Restaurants Adapted for the American Kitchen is on it and with good reason. I got my copy many years ago from my ex’s wonderful mother,  have loved cooking from it and especially loved looking at the amazing menus and photos that really capture an enviable mid-century lifestyle beautifully.



Vincent and his wife Mary loved to cook and entertain, with a kitchen that anyone could only dream of… I mean is that an island or is that an island?



Not only did he entertain, boy did he know where to eat!   The book is a collection of menus and recipes for the great cuisines of the world from all the most famous restaurants of the day... from Paris’s Tour d’Argent and England’s Woburn Abbey to Chicago’s Pump Room and New York’s Trader Vics.  Thank heavens Vincent Price used his celebrity shamelessly. When he asked for recipes at incredible places, he got them.

Price came from a good deal of St. Louis, Missouri money (his father was president of The National Candy Company and his grandfather invented a popular cream of tartar baking powder).  He went to Yale majoring in Art History and was a member of the famous Courtauld Institute at University of London (founded in 1932), one of the premier centers for the teaching of art history in the world (said my friends at Wikipedia). Although he seemed to relish his career in theatre and film (especially in campy horror films), I think he enjoyed the fine art of living even more.







Faisan sous cloche, or pheasant under glass appears in a 1940 menu from Antoine’s restaurant in New Orleans (where my parents went for their honeymoon a decade later!).   From what I understand, the dish evolved over time from Escoffier’s famous Mushrooms sous cloche.


 Le Guide Culinaire 1903, Escoffier

Charles Ranhofer’s The Epicurean has a similar mushroom recipe in 1894 (an homage to Escoffier perhaps?) … with a lovely illustration.



I tried to find where the transition was made from mushrooms to pheasant (my theory is that it’s an early mid-20th century American invention to evoke high-style to provincial American clientele) but came up empty.  I did find that as late as 1920, a creaky delight by James Lane Allen called “On the Mantelpiece” still referred to mushrooms under glass… the pheasant was a stuffed curiosity perched under a glass bell on a table.

“Who loved the domestic canary, and the owl if perched on a bookcase
And the pheasant With its young and its nest if well arranged on a table-
Served sous cloche like mushrooms.”

Ranhofer’s pheasant is still sans cloche even though he had done the mushrooms that way in 1894.


 The pheasant sous cloche preparation is different from the mushroom method in one significant way.  The mushrooms are cooked inside the cloche, keeping all of the precious aromas within the glass until the moment the fortunate diner removes the lid.  The pheasant is prepared beforehand and then the finished product is covered -- but the effect is the same -- the diner will open the lid and enjoy the dizzying aromas of truffles, cognac and Madeira in a potent blast of scent not unlike today’s magic pillows of fragrance created by gastro-geniuses like Grant Achatz.

I read a charming 2001 article by Jonathan Reynolds in the NYT’s in which Reynolds recalled eating pheasant under glass as a youth on an outing with an elegant uncle at The Westbury Hotel in NYC in the 50s (I am guessing -- he wasn’t clear on the year). I believe this was the heyday of the dish.  I remember films of the 30s and 40s always made pheasant under glass seem like the sine qua non of cuisine (funny I always remember it being ordered but never arriving!).  By the time I was old enough to enjoy it, it had gone the way of the dinosaurs but I have always wanted to see what all the fuss was about.  Everyone in old black and white movies ordered pheasant under glass at fancy soirees… me too, please!


I based my recipe on the Jonathan Reynold’s version principally, and it is similar to one from the Greenbriar Hotel in WV (how long ago it was on the menu, I do not know) but added the truffle because I think it is essential for the effect to work properly.  Morels are great but they don’t knock you off your feet like the scent of a truffle does, Vincent knew best on that one (although I remember tasting truffles in a sauce as a kid in a fancy joint and they tasted like dirt… I think they were from a jar… blech!, I wonder if Antoines were the real deal?).  I did love the Antoine’s toast with pheasant liver idea so threw that in since it is a classic French technique when serving game birds.  The Antoine’s sauce wasn’t my cup of tea but I’ve included it for you to decide which you like.  All and all, great dish and a real show stopper if you have cloches (I used the top from a cake stand).  I can imagine the Pricean glee when young Vincent enjoyed the ceremony at Antoines nearly 70 years ago, bathing his famous face in the celestial steam to enjoy it to its fullest.

Oh yes, I got my pheasant from D’Artagnan and it was raised in NJ!!!   If you have never had raised pheasant, it is mild and like chicken and not dark like duck… every so slightly pink is the ideal degree of doneness.  The wild version is darker but equally superb! I have another recipe for it that is related, but with foie gras and truffles called Pheasant Souvaroff that you can find HERE.




Pheasant Under Glass for 2
1 whole large pheasant breast from D'Artagnan, split and boned (Duck or chicken would work too) *
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons unsalted butter (plus 2 T for sautéing livers)
1 T brandy
1 T Boston Bual Madeira  from Rare Wine Company 
2 large shallots, peeled and chopped
2 shitake mushrooms, sliced
2 small crimini mushrooms, sliced
1 tablespoon plus 1 t. brandy
1/3 cup dry white wine
1/3 cup heavy cream
1 small truffle from D'Artagnan, sliced   or a few drops of good white truffle oil from D'Artagnan 
 Pinch cayenne pepper.

pheasant liver (optional, if you have one, mine did not)
2 pieces toast (optional)

I used arugula for a garnish and loved the flavor with the rich sauce… you may want to use it as an edible side dish.


1. Flatten pheasant breasts slightly with a mallet or rolling pin, then rub with 1 tablespoon of the lemon juice and season with black pepper.
2. Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter over medium-high heat in a 9-inch skillet. When it foams, sear the pheasant, skin side down, about 5 minutes per side. Remove to a plate, cover and keep warm (raised pheasant breast is light like chicken and not like duck… every so slightly pink is the ideal degree of doneness).
3. Steep the dried morels in ½ cup hot water, cognac and madeira for an hour. Drain and strain them, reserving the soaking liquid. Discard stems and slice caps thinly.
4. Melt the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter in the skillet and sauté the shallots for 2 minutes, until golden, then add the morels and mushrooms for 5 minutes. Remove to a bowl and keep warm.
5. Boil the reserved soaking liquid with the brandy and white wine until reduced by 1/2, about 1 minute, then whisk in the cream and demi-glace and boil about 1 minute, until sauce is thickened and smooth. Whisk in the remaining lemon juice and the cayenne.
6. If you have one, sauté the pheasant liver in butter, season and add 1 t cognac and then spread on toast.
7. Place the pheasant breasts skin side up on your toast on a hot serving plates and top each with half the mushroom mixture, then the sauce and shaved truffles or drops of truffle oil.
8. Enclose with a glass cover.  It is classically served with wild rice. 
* You will have many pheasant bits left after removing the breast.  What I did was brown them and cook them for 6 hours in 6 c stock at the lowest heat possible.  I will be using the legs for a holiday cassoulet ( and Petunia the St Bernard gets the rest)!









And now, another holiday drink for you via Cooling Cups and Dainty Drinks.  Those slushy punches are hot again.  Mark Bittman did a version in the NYTs  this week.  I have done one before HERE . A version of Punch Romaine (and there are many) was served on the Titanic’s last night as a palate cleanser between courses. I can tell you, they are delish… boozy and refreshing all at once.  I’ll keep ‘em coming till New Years.  They really knew how to drink in the 19th century!  Oh yes, drop over and visit David Solmonson at 12 Bottle Bar  if you want to find out more about great cocktails… I’m a novice at mixology having been a wine person most of my life.  He tells great stories with lots of history and is doing a 12 days of Christmas drink special.





Ponche á la Romaine, á la Hall

2 c pineapple syrup*
2 drops essence of orange peel (I used Aftelier’s essence of Bergamot )
a few gratings of orange peel
a few gratings of ambergris from Ambergris Co. NZ   (optional)
2 cups dry sherry
2 c cider
4 egg whites in an Italian meringue**
½ c rum

Put the pineapple syrup to warm in a pan.  When it is quite warm, add the ambergris and orange essence.  Cool the mixture, then add the peel, sherry, cider, meringue and rum and freeze.  Unless your freezer can go very cold, the texture will be like a stiff, albeit boozy slushy.  If you’d like, you can dollop any leftover meringue you have on the top or put fresh fruit in the bottom ( I tried raspberries and they were delicious and cut the sugar… it is a sweet drink!).

*Pineapple Syrup 
2 cups cane sugar
1 cup water
1/2 small pineapple

Combine sugar with water and stir. Skin and cube a small pineapple, add the fruit to the sugar mixture and muddle somewhat.  Let stand for 24 hours. Put the mixture in a blender for a moment to put some juice into the mixture. Stir to dissolve any residual sugar and pour the resulting syrup through a strainer or cheesecloth-lined funnel and let it drip through for an hour. Add a small dash of vodka as a preservative. Keep refrigerated for up to a month.

**Italian Meringue

1 1/3 c sugar
4 egg whites
¼ t cream of tartar

Combine sugar with 1/3 c of water and bring slowly to a boil and continue cooking till it reaches 238º. 

Beat the egg whites till foamy, add cream of tartar and continue beating till stiff.

Add the syrup slowly while beating the eggs for 10 minutes until cooled.  It will be smooth and glossy.






* If I may recommend, a great foodie gift for the holidays (or a treat for you!)  would be a selection of chef's essences from Aftelier. The fir has just come out and it is TO DIE FOR!  I had it in a gin drink at Astor Center and felt faint from pleasure... 


**Tis the season to give… to WIKIPEDIA!!  It’s a great service that most everyone uses and it is done out of the goodness of many hearts.  Fill their holiday coffers, won’t you??
Donate a few bucks to keep them going. 
Thanks!
Thanks to Gollum for hosting foodie friday!

Friday, December 3, 2010

Frango Mint Ice Cream Pie at Marshall Field & Co.



For many years after moving to NYC, I made an annual pilgrimage home to Chicagoland for the Christmas holidays.  Part of the ritual was a stop at Marshall Field & Co. in Chicago to get frozen Frango Mint® Pie, no matter how hard that might be to fit into my schedule.  


The store was gorgeous (it is no longer Marshall Fields but now has been gobbled up by the Macy’s empire) on State Street with a stories-high atrium topped by a glorious Tiffany Favrile glass  mosaic ceiling composed of 1,600,000 pieces of glass – one of the largest of its kind built in 1907 (watch a video of it HERE ).


I always loved having my first slice in the Walnut Room restaurant – the first tea room in a department store… just for lady shoppers so they could stay and shop all day without having to rush home for lunch… brilliant idea, yes?  At Christmas time there was a giant Christmas tree in the center of the room instead of the usual fountain.





Back in the days before homeland security, you could bring the pie on the plane, wrapped in a dry ice box and ready to pop into your freezer when you got home (as you tried not to eat the whole thing in one sitting… not easy to do).  Did I mention I had often eaten 2 whole pies already during my stay?                             

It had been years since I had one and I searched far and wide for a recipe, finally locating one that was quietly put out by the store (before it was absorbed by Macy’s) and it is close to my memory of it.  I can’t find it online anymore. The biggest change I made was the topping. The recipe said hazelnut praline but I always remember it tasted like the inside of a Heath Bar… so that is what I made -- with almonds.  It is fast, easy and just revoltingly good (it was gobbled up in no time with one guest eating 3rds!). 




The Walnut Room opened in 1907… I have no idea how far back the Frango Mint Pie goes, but the Frederick and Nelson Company in Seattle trademarked the name “Frango Mint” in 1918. That company was bought out by Marshall Field who started making their own, slightly different version in their flagship store in 1929 on the 13th floor (and did so until 1999 when they moved off-site).  Get the ball rolling by ordering the famous green box of their chocolates that are now organic!  The pictures I’ve seen of the pie today are missing the toffee topping… big mistake.  The topping is magnificent.  If you can't get the mints, you could use milk chocolate with mint added... but the original is the best way to go and not terribly expensive.







Frango Mint Pie

Topping:

½ c butter
½ c sugar
2 T water
1/8 t salt
¼ cup sliced almonds

Heat the butter, sugar, salt and water to 300º.  Add the almonds and stir.  Pour out on a cookie sheet and cool.  Break up and pulse in a food processor till it looks like course crumbs.

Crust:

1 ½ cups graham crackers crumbs (about 18 crackers)

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

¼ cup sugar


Filling:


1/3 cup of sugar (the original called for ½ a cup… your choice)

1½ teaspoons of cornstarch

1/8 teaspoon of salt

1 cup milk

8 Frango® Mint Chocolates (about 3 ounces) finely chopped
1 egg, room temperature

1 cup heavy whipping cream

½ teaspoon of pure vanilla extract


Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 350 degrees F. Butter a 9-inch pie pan. Combine the cracker crumbs, butter and sugar in a food processor and process until well blended. Transfer to the prepared pie pan and press the mixture evenly and firmly to the bottom and side of the pan. Bake for about 8 minutes, until the crust is beginning to brown. Transfer to a wire rack and allow it to cool completely in the pan.


In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, combine the sugar, cornstarch and salt. Add ¼ cup of the milk and whisk until the cornstarch is dissolved. Add the chocolates and the remaining milk and place over medium-low heat. Cook, stirring constantly, for about 4 minutes, until the mixture comes to a boil. Remove the pan from the heat.

In a small bowl, whisk the egg until lightly beaten. Gradually add about ¼ cup of the hot chocolate mixture to the egg, whisking constantly until blended. Whisk the chocolate and egg mixture into the saucepan and place over low heat. Cook, stirring constantly, for about 1 minute, until slightly thickened. Do not let the mixture come near a boil or the eggs will scramble. Transfer the custard to a bowl and allow it to cool completely, stirring occasionally. Stir in the cream and vanilla. Refrigerate for about 2 hours, until well chilled.

Freeze the custard in an ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instruction, until frozen but soft and spreadable. Transfer the ice cream to the crust and smooth the top with a spatula. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and freeze for at least 4 hours or overnight, until firm.

Sprinkle the top of the pie with the praline, pressing it in gently to adhere.




**Tis the season to give… to WIKIPEDIA!!  It’s a great service that most everyone uses and it is done out of the goodness of many hearts.  Fill their holiday coffers, won’t you??
Donate a few bucks to keep them going. 
Thanks!





From Cooling Cups and Dainty Drinks, an 1869 drink that is a dessert in itself.




Apple Toddy

1 or 2 small baked apple* (I used a lady apple with raisins, butter and brown sugar inside)
1 oz powdered sugar
½ c brandy or brandy and apple brandy (I used Germain-Robin Apple Brandy and Maison Surrenne Cognac )
1 c boiling cider
a little grated fresh ginger
lemon peel
cinnamon stick for apple

Put baked apple in a glass with cinnamon stick, add powdered sugar, cider and brandy.  Grate ginger on top and a squeeze of lemon peel!  If you are making the apples earlier, store them in the cider and warm them together.  Good to serve the apples with a little plate and fork… they are delicious!
*just a note, 150 years ago, most  apples were much smaller... closer to today's lady apple.  I had a very old tree that had small but very flavorful apples... not the style today!




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Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Elinor Fettiplace, Walter Raleigh’s Rose Sweet Potatoes and an Excellent Negus





Elinor Fettiplace née Poole (1570-1647) was born 12 years into the reign of Elizabeth the 1st. What the Poole family did well was arrange advantageous marriages that increased their land and fortunes, took positions that had hefty benefits and endeared themselves to important members of the nobility who responded generously to their ministrations.  These talents took them very far very fast.

So far that Elinor’s grandfather, Sir Giles Poole (the Patriarch at the time) had his heart set on creating a mansion to rival his Thynne relations at Longleat (where he had been a retainer 30 years before) as befitting his station in the world but died before it could be finished. Sir Giles did well by his granddaughter, Elinor, leaving a lusty dowry for her marriage to Richard Fettiplace in 1589.  The Fettiplaces had probably been selected for their ancient pedigree (at least back to William the Conquerer in the 11th century) and large land holdings but they had fallen onto hard times in the current generation.  The Pooles made life a little easier for them as part of the marriage agreement in exchange for some acreage.



 Elinor and her husband moved to one of his family holdings, a Norman Manor house at Appleton where she raised 5 children and lived with an extended family.  Her husband Richard was knighted through her family connections in 1601 (possibly as a result of a meeting with Queen Elizabeth at an enormous wedding celebration for Henry Somerset, Lord Herbert in 1600). 


In 1604, Elinor Fettiplace put together a small leather-bound book of recipes, cures and advice that was discovered nearly 400 years later by a descendant, playwright John Spurling and was brought to life in a book by his wife Hilary -- herself a theatre critic, editor and author. Spurling’s book was aptly named Elinor Fettiplace's Recipe Book .
 
Spurling found Elinor’s work inspirational and full of great recipes.  She did a lot of legwork to remake the old recipes while still providing the originals so reinterpretation was possible (which I am thankful for.)  In the intervening 20-odd years since the book was published, many ingredients that were impossible to find then are now available so the recipes can be made as written (still no musk though!).

Fettiplace’s work was one of the first books of its kind that we know of, handwritten by a very literate, well-to-do woman (well actually for her… a secretary most likely did the writing).  She outlived 2 husbands and lived to be nearly 80… a fine old age for the time.


           Sir Walter Raleigh 1554-1618

Many of the recipes came from powerful friends and famous neighbors like Sir Walter Raleigh (she was related to his brother, Carew Raleigh) who contributed some unusual recipes from wondrous new produce obtained on his forays to the New World in 1595 and again in 1616.  Aside from tobacco water and syrup, he also shared recipes for sweet potatoes that were brand new imports.

The sweet potato member of the Convolvulaceae family (related to morning glory, not the potato) was domesticated in South America at least 5000 years ago.






John Hawkins (ship builder and architect of the Elizabethan navy that triumphed over the much larger Spanish Armada in 1588) may have brought the sweet potato to England in 1565, but Elinor’s neighbor, Walter Raleigh, grew them after his visit to the new world in 1595.  I would imagine that the sweet potato was as rare as a white Italian truffle when Elinor wrote her recipe book in 1604.  Her recipe for the prized vegetable with rose and ambergris doesn’t seem so extravagant given the newness and scarcity of the New World vegetable.  The combination is inspirational with the voluptuous texture of the sweet potato -- the rose perfumed syrup transforms the lowly potato completely by treating it like a fine preserved fruit.



Sweet Potatoes with Rose Syrup and Ambergris

1 pound sweet potatoes
1 pound sugar
1 c water (1/2 cup if using rose water)
2 drops Aftelier rose essence or ½ c rosewater
juice of 3 oranges
a pea sized piece of  ambergris, grated or 1 t vanilla
Dried Rose Buds for garnish (optional)

Boil or bake the potatoes till cooked but not mushy.  Remove the skin and then slice.

Heat the sugar with the water and rose until liquefied over a low heat, add the orange juice and simmer for 10 minutes.  Skim and add the sweet potatoes and heat over a low flame for 20 min.  Remove the potatoes.  Put the hot liquid into the dish you are using to store/serve them in and add the rose essence or rose water.  It is best done the day before so the flavors meld.  Serve by warming the mixture (especially the syrup) and grate the ambergris over them (or add the vanilla).



“Boile your roots in faire water until they bee somewhat tender then pill of the skinne, then make your syrupe, weying to every pound of roots a pound of sugar and a quarter of a pint of faire water, & as much of rose water, & the juice of three or fowre oranges, then boile the syrupe, & boile them till they bee throughlie soaked in the syrupe, before you take it from the fire, put in a little musk and amber greece.”

I love ambergris and wanted to also use it for a special holiday celebration drink after being inspired by Meriton Latroon’s Punch by historical mixologist, David Wondrich in the NYT’s  and in his new book, Punch: The Delights (and Dangers) of the Flowing Bowl.



Chest of Books  says “Punch is of course from the Hindustani [character] signifying 5, from its five original ingredients, to wit, aqua vitae, rose water, sugar, arrack, and citron juice”, but the definition has widened a good deal in the passing years.  I was noodling around in one of my favorite 19th century drink books, Cooling Cups and Dainty Drinks by William Terrington and found a recipe for special version of Negus… a warm port drink with ambergris that fit the bill perfectly and isn’t far from the spirit of the spiced wine Hippocras  popular in England for hundreds of years. I think it would have pleased Elinor. 
My ambergris is from Ambergris Co. NZ , a fine reputable source of found ambergris ( I wrote about it HERE).  It is such a haunting scent.  I had wished I could wear it as a perfume as well as using it for cooking and drinking and EUREKA—now they are making the real deal in an ambergris perfume   … a dream come true for Christmas (hint hint)!  Added to the glorious scent of an old port… well, this is a special occasion drink and if you don’t know about great vintage port… you are missing something wondrous. 

My favorite port quote came from a 1932 book by H. Warner Allen called The Romance of Wine that I’ve had since college.  He reflected on the space left at the top of a port bottle by saying “ I have liked to fancy that the extra air space is given to vintage port rather as a small supply of food was provided for the guilty Vestal Virgin when she was being buried alive.  Condemned to grow up in the most difficult of conditions with no external aid, the wine is given a little extra air to encourage it in its desperate strivings towards perfection…” on its journey to become what wine connoisseur Prof. Saintsbury called “our noblest legacy”.  Come on, you have to admit, that is quite an image.  He also says that an old port tastes of “molten gold and soft purples of antique tapestry”… with that reflection’s purple prose , I concur.

Negus is a wine punch, named after Col. Francis Negus who invented it in the early part of the 18th century during the reign of Queen Anne. The drink flows all around English literature from Jane Austen to the Bronte sisters to Dickens and in modern times with Patrick O’Brian and his Aubrey novels.  It was usually port wine with sugar rubbed on lemon peel, lemon juice and nutmeg -- warming and popular for 100 or so years on both sides of the Atlantic.  It often had a good deal more water in it than wine and by the mid-19th century was considered a good drink for children.  In this version it’s a luxurious drink with a fine port made even more elegant with the sweet breath of ambergris tossed on its steaming wine-dark waters.

 


Excellent Negus for 4, based on a recipe from Cooling Cups

1 c port (I used a 1983 Warre Port from The Rare Wine Company but an LBV or good ruby will work, however, the better the port the better the drink )
1/3 to 1 c of water (your choice and it depends on the port used--I liked much less water)
juice  and the grated  peel of  a ¼ lemon
pinch of grated nutmeg
sugar to taste ( I used 4 t)
1 pea sized piece of ambergris (Ambergris Co. NZ) or 2 drops of vanilla

Heat the liquids and add all the lemon and peel, nutmeg and sugar and pour in a glass (I preferred it with no lemon juice... just the peel).

Grate the ambergris over each serving while still hot… this releases the oils in the ambergris, it is not as effective when it cools.  Then, inhale… the scent is magical. Ambergris is something you smell more than taste.  Breathe deeply of the warm scented steam before you taste.



PS.  Last weekend I went to a fabulous series of lectures and demonstrations at the Astor Center in NYC in a series called The Alchemy of Taste and Smell with such food luminaries as Harold McGee, Johnny Iuzzini, David Chang (Momofuku) Wylie DuFresne, David Patterson and master mixologist Audrey Saunders of Pegu Club.  It was a celebration of the art of Mandy Aftel of Aftelier who makes the divine chef essences I so love to use.  They have changed the way I think about food and are doing the same thing for chefs and drink masters all over the world. She has reestablished the connection between the perfumer’s art and cooking… a connection that existed for millennia (see Cosimo de Medici’s apothecary Francesco Redi who created Jasmine Chocolate HERE ) . Do try some of her amazing scents… they will rock your world and your cooking for the holidays!






AND, the beautiful Lorraine at Not Quite Nigella, was kind enough to mention this blog  in an Australian magazine, My Look Book … how cool is that… many thanks… and buy  her book when it comes out… it’s sure to be a gas.

Thanks to Gollum for hosting Foodie Friday!